Jeremiah WIPs
Apr. 29th, 2026 10:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
annavereI was asked to chat about these by dswdiane, and doing so will help me to track them down and organize them, because it's been a very long time since I've dug through my folder of Back Burner Items. I forgot how much stuff I had actually written bits of, in the grip of my Jeremiah mania. So here goes nothing, arranged by type of nothing.
And in the full spirit of the thing, I'll post a little excerpt from each rough draft. Then I will go hide. :)
1. More Erin fencing vignettes! Character moments that can stand on their own, and a fun challenge for me to write one shots. They're a grab bag of ideas (post or during canon, canon compliant or divergent) that are top of the heap for actually getting finished and posted sometime soon. The trickiest part is to find out how each relationship can be enhanced through swordfighting. If the scene could play out the same way anywhere else, it needs more work. I have strong sketchwork for Erin with Theo, Smith and Lauren, as well as actual drafts for Elizabeth and Lee (both needing to get retooled, but still). Here's a bit from the Theo/Erin segment:
~
Erin had packed the necessary kit and gone out to Clarefield, resigning herself to a brief, unpleasant attempt at a lesson, but Theo surprised her from the first, taking to the task wholeheartedly. "I don't mind learnin' the rules long as I can break 'em later," she said on the first day, and she was as good as her word, progressing steadily through the course Erin had devised, and with such excellent physical memory Erin doubted the lessons would be needed for very long. Still, Theo gave her hell the one time she tried to cancel. "How the hell am I supposed to learn my balestra if teach is gonna leave me high and dry whenever she feels like it?"
So Erin tried very hard to leave time in a calendar always busy.
~
2. Written on the Mirror, the albatross around my neck. Twenty "episodes" of a sequel, which kicks off right after the credits roll. I was trying to address all the character arcs and unresolved plot threads, while telling a coherent overarching story. Has the misfortune of being the first fanfic I ever started, so it's got a lot of problems, and the second half isn't drafted, just vaguely sketched. This was when I was new to fandom and had no idea that I could ask for help, and thought I had to sink or swim on my own. So it sunk (which is good, because I became a better writer by working on short projects which gained actual feedback).
So now I'm a better writer, and Mirror is still far from complete. This is one where my ambition outpaced my sense. Everyone needs therapy, but instead of getting any, they just over-identify with each other. It's all there in the title, and I ran parallels every which way I could find. This is my white whale, my unhinged conspiracy board meme, overloaded with angst and talkiness and plot contrivances.
Here's a bit from right near the beginning:
~
Alone on the floor in the far right corner sat what Kurdy presumed to be the founder Warren, hands tied behind his back. He didn't look especially comfortable, and he winced at the sudden influx of light, but started speaking the instant Lex shoved Jeremiah inside.
"Today's loyalty will be remembered and rewarded. This is no time to burn bridges." Lex ignored him, manhandling Jeremiah into a sitting position before doing the same for Kurdy and Smith. The three new captives were arranged in a neat row along the left wall. "Some lies are necessary. It was the only way, we are the only way to bring the Old World back!" Warren's voice was raised as Lex walked away, slamming and bolting the door. The cracks between the boards were suddenly the only source of light.
Kurdy stared in Warren's general direction. "I think Markus will want to have a word with you about that 'bringing the Old World back' idea. Thunder Mountain has done more good than the Army of Daniel ever could-"
"Thunder Mountain is run by children," said Warren dismissively.
"Oh yeah," said Jeremiah, "and what does that say about your army, if you're sending children to war?"
"Civilization entails sacrifice. We were bringing-"
"How about you shut the fuck up and leave us to wait for rescue? Our people are already coming for us, while your people - oh wait, they're the ones who threw your lying ass in prison. Sure, you're really bringing us the wisdom of ages here." So saying, Jeremiah shifted his back to Warren as best he could.
Kurdy's eyes were starting to adjust and he could just make out Smith's form, hunkered down beside the door. He still said nothing. Kurdy leaned against the wall and spoke bleakly. "Markus is not gonna be happy."
~
3. Mystery work??? I... actually forgot about this one. It's a ramshackle bit of nothing, which was post-canon and included a lot of different elements which I ended up cannibalizing into Sidelined and some of the WIPs listed here. Consequently, all that's left are a few odd scenes that can't fit elsewhere and which I could still make something of, such as this immediately post-show scene.
~
"Would you go with Jeremiah already?" Kurdy told Smith, who hadn't left his side, although he was tottering with tortured exhaustion. "He took care of business - I think he'll be okay with you sharing a medical tent." Especially considering they were in for the exact same reason. If that didn't make peace between them, nothing would. "I'll manage without my scribe for a day."
Smith clambered into the truck, ungainly yet expectant. "I'm feeling much better, actually." Kurdy snorted. "Could you just drop me off at the school? I have something to take care of, I'll catch you later."
"This can't wait?"
Smith gave him a plaintive look.
"Dumb question, right." Kurdy started the engine. "You're gonna promise me when you're done, you'll stop and see to yourself, alright?" No reaction. "Smith? You promise?"
"I promise. The Sisters have medical kits."
Kurdy strongly doubted Smith would ever use their supplies for himself, no matter how much he required care. "Doesn't God ever tell you you should look after yourself first?"
Smith gave one of those sad, pained smiles of his, like someone he cared about had stepped on his foot.
"Well, after today, he'd better be giving you a raise of some kind. I mean, the whole world's seen one of your miracles, Smith."
"It wasn't mine."
"Well, would you cheer up anyway?"
~
Canon divergences!
4. Jeremiah doesn't escape Clarefield in the pilot. Kurdy and Simon (who would have to live, at least long enough to get to the Mountain with Kurdy) would escape, thinking he'd been killed, and Jeremiah would be left trying to gain the trust of a supremely pissed-off Theo. This is one of those fun "short" ideas that would inevitably snowball into me having to rewrite the entire show, because without Jeremiah, everything would change drastically. In some bad ways (Valhalla Sector would steamroll into the area by the fourth episode, I think) and some good ways (the circumstances behind every major canonical death would be averted!). It would also give me a chance to try the hotness which is enemies to lovers Jeremiah/Theo. Speaking of:
~
She studied him, waiting for some kind of response, and then spoke seriously. "They got away. Your friends. Took the truck, left you pissing in the wind."
Relief lodged deep in his chest. He didn't let it show.
"Which means I get to do whatever I want until they come back for you."
"They won't. I told you, I don't know those guys. Just to say hi to."
"Sure bothered you when I shot the one."
"It's called a principle, Theo."
Her hand flashed out, seizing the top of his hair with strong fingers and yanking his head back until they were eye to eye. "Who you think you're fucking with here?"
Jeremiah let his injuries throb without protest, keeping his voice level and quiet. "They won't come back."
"Better hope they do, or I got no use for your skinny white ass."
She shoved him away and he made the effort to smile, drawing deep breaths against the pain in his ribs. That got her attention. "And when they don't," he continued, as if she hadn't said anything, "then you'll know."
"Know what?"
"That I really did save your life."
Though deadly quiet, Theo didn't fly at him outright. What he'd witnessed from her, torture and murder for spite, didn't even get her on the list of the worst he'd seen. Besides, if he regretted saving her, he regretted being human.
"But I guess you'd prefer it the other way, with me working some angle, right? Because see, that way you don't owe me anything."
"They'll be back," she said, and stood. "We all got time to wait."
~
5. Libby seduces Erin instead of Jeremiah. This goes in the bad ideas category, existing in my brain as an excuse to try writing an erotic spy thriller (one of my favorite trash genres), with a tangled, twisted mess of motivations. I don't think the result would make a lick of sense, and the fact that it opens with Libby convincing Erin to try on the black party dress indicates how traumatizing I found the Erin & Markus dance scene, because subtle, this is not.
~
Erin turned around, unsure if she felt over or under dressed. "Look, you don't have to go to this trouble."
Libby paused, suddenly serious. "Erin, you should let yourself have this. I know you want to wait, I know what you're thinking - you're thinking there's a perfect time, there's a day waiting in the wings just for you, but you know how the perfect is the enemy of the good? The way it goes, there might never be a better time, and you'll end up forcing something where it doesn't fit, you know?"
Erin swallowed hard. Libby studied the dress with admiration and then murmured, "It's not disloyal to take the next best thing in the meantime. It's just living. So, how about it?"
A small nod and Libby pressed play. Unfamiliar opening chords, a slide guitar and Libby sprang forward, pleased, hands capturing hers and pulling her out into the tiny square of open floor. "Dance with me."
After an instant of hesitation, Erin put a hand to Libby's shoulder and let her lead. She clearly knew more of what she was doing and Erin wasn't at all clear what was making her feel nervous and energized. She'd danced at Christmas parties, but always in a crowd and never to a song like this. A love song, she thought at first, but as it went on she realized the words were all wrong, and she almost commented on it, just to cut the tension.
What tension? It's only Libby, this is ridiculous...
"Why do all this?" she found herself saying. "You barely know me."
Libby leaned close, mouth almost brushing Erin's ear. "I know what it's like. Wanting someone who isn't there."
~
6. Sims decides to attack Millhaven instead of going after the trucks. Thereby taking Erin and Smith hostage, at which point all kinds of fun discussions and moral struggles could ensue. Yes, this is basically that one plot point in Sidelined on overdrive. No, there is no actual ending to my outline, because I could not figure out how Sims wouldn't end up gutted like a fish for his audacity. Another for the bad ideas column.
~
"Mister Smith made his offer yet?"
Erin shrugged. "Since I'm not going anywhere, and neither is he, I would say it hardly matters. He can't walk through the walls, and he's only got one working arm."
"Still, I expect you'd give it some thought. Last refuge of the powerless. Though if you're inclined to escape your current imprisonment, there's a more direct appeal you could make."
"Would that be referring to Daniel, or to you? Or has that line started to blur?"
"Then again," he said, his change of topic basically a yes, "the Western Alliance has no hope of winning without divine intervention. That seems a miracle more to your taste."
"Yes, it would be wasteful to ask for my own freedom when I could guarantee theirs."
"I thought as much."
This conversation was ridiculous. She'd promised herself not to take Smith's latest mad offer seriously, and now she was discussing it like a serious proposition. "I guess you wouldn't ask for anything? That would be an admission your side might not win. Which of course is impossible."
Sims appeared pleased, but didn't bother answering. It was as if Erin was finally grasping a fundamental truth of reality - which was annoying coming from a man who frequently abused sarcasm, but Erin didn't let it show.
"You know," she said with deliberate casualness, "I've changed my mind. Maybe, if I could ask God for a miracle? I would ask for you to switch sides."
The offer infuriated him, she could tell, and it was immeasurably satisfying to witness. She had won this round. He stepped closer, seeking to intimidate by proximity and she waited for him to fall back on his usual declarative bluster, as though repetition could make the false true. Instead, he only said, "And if I were to make the same request, we'd find ourselves exactly where we are right now."
"Why would you ever ask for that?"
She meant it as a goad of his vaunted patience, an accusation of faithlessness, willingness to cheat on the test if it got the result he wanted, but by his smile, she knew she'd made a mistake. "Why would you?"
~
Crossovers!
7. Highlander crossover. While I was able to come up with a background canon divergence involving Richie sparing Mako (a circumstance which somehow logically leads to Martin Hyde, Brian Cullen and Tyler King all being alive in the apocalypse) and Cassandra prophesying the end of the world, I never was able to find a central pillar of plot for this one. I'm mostly fascinated by the ways different Immortals would adapt, and so this would probably work best as a set of vaguely interconnected short stories about a wide variety of Immortals trying to get by, with a heavy emphasis on worldbuilding. Also, there's a plotline about Sims and Libby both being very new, deeply confused Immortals (Amanda becomes Libby's teacher, and reads her like a book), both as an excuse to keep them around, and as a way to explore the extreme generation gap between original and post Big Death Immortals.
Anyway, here's a bit from the Michelle Webster snapshot I wrote for it.
~
Michelle Webster sat at the bar, numbing herself over a glass of rotgut which was unlikely to strike her blind (no such guarantees for the other patrons) but went some way toward silencing the disapproving voices of her four parents. Immortality's gifts had ended with the apocalypse, but it turned out that sex, drugs and rock and roll were in their own way eternal. She was trapped in a petri dish of her own immaturity. She tried not to make eye contact with the other patrons, children all, though in their twenties.
Axel had wanted to see the world with fresh eyes. She wondered what he'd have done when he no longer wanted to see it at all. Ten good years were all she would have gotten with him, but it had turned out ten years were all the world had going for it. Given the option, knowing the future, would she have made another choice? A bit of fun before she lost her head, never living to see this day.
I taught you better than this, Michelle.
Amanda's voice. Michelle tipped up her glass with a grimace. Maybe she would have made a third choice and gone into craft brewing instead. The end of the world surely needed it.
At first Amanda's voice had been a comfort, consoling her against the judgments of Craig and Nancy, and the condemnations of Duncan MacLeod. Amanda had told her there was nothing else for it, and girls needed to have their fun somehow, until the world righted itself. Not that she knew how Amanda had really taken the end of the world - intercontinental travel had collapsed so fast, she hadn't heard from her or Duncan.
Michelle had holed up in a monastery until she could pass for one of the survivors, and in a way she was. Her memories of the Old World were clearer, true, but she buried those when she could and the rest of Immortality barely applied. The kids didn't have a clue what they were, their only available teachers still hiding on Holy Ground in their hoods and robes, waiting while the world went further to shit. None of them carried swords, although she'd hung on to hers. Habit.
~
8. Brimstone crossover. I hammered out an over-ambitious outline after watching the two shows practically back to back, but this feels like it would be kind of brutal to write, given the harsh Old Testament worldbuilding in which people go to hell if they break the eye for an eye rule. However, there's some interesting stuff in there, with Zeke trying to help Paul and then Ezekiel, and with the damned souls engineering the end of the world to try to wipe out all believers in God and the Devil, and thus destroy heaven and hell.
Here's the one bit that reached sketch status (ouch, I wrote like a block of wood back then), in which Jeremiah has gone to kill Sims, but Ezekiel Stone decides to step in to save Jeremiah's soul.
~
"I know this story, Jeremiah. I've been where you are."
"Smith put you up to this? Get the fuck out of my way."
"Can't do that."
"Right."
Jeremiah swung a punch. Zeke let it land, but when Jeremiah tried to go past him, he pushed him back down the hill. "You need to listen. I know how this ends. I killed the man who raped my wife. Six months later, I died, and my soul was damned."
"Smith did put you up to this, the fuck." Jeremiah sounded more confused than angry.
"Sims is going to hell. Don't follow him there."
"If God sends me to hell for killing that evil son of a bitch, I got no use for him. Not that I had any before."
"Still can't let you do this."
~
9. Miracles crossover, using the combined lore of the shows, as well as the corporeal ghosts of the latter. When I rewatch Miracles, I will take notes, but that show's a bit heavy in its grief themes for me right now, so it will have to wait for a better time to construct an outline. However, I did write some bits down, clearly intending for ghostly spookiness to abound. This whole thing would be an excuse for the "conversations with dead people" trope. Here's Smith, having been captured by raiders, dreaming of Libby (no, I don't have any more context for this scene):
~
The watch swung on its chain, dangling from her fingers, always slightly out of his reach. "Give that back. Please."
"Please?" she said mockingly, arching an eyebrow. "The man who murdered me gets to say please now?"
"I'm sorry." He shuddered. "You can't be real."
"Why not? You can hear God, but your victims aren't allowed to come haunt you? Doesn't seem fair, now does it? Are you cold, Mister Smith? Would you like a blanket?"
There was the sound of approaching footsteps. His captors were returning.
Libby swung the watch upward and caught it easily, tucking it inside her jacket. "They like shiny things. I'll hang on to this for you. For safekeeping."
"No, don't! I need it!"
"I'm not real, right? I'm a ghost, I can't steal anything. What are you afraid of?" She leaned over him and kissed his forehead. "Be brave."
Smith started awake, clammy with sweat. He started feeling around in his pockets, trying to get the watch out, hide it beneath something before the thieves he'd fallen in with arrived in the room. He checked twice, three times. The watch was gone.
~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~
Okay, that was a lot. I really need to clear out my writing folders, yikes. This is way more stuff than I realized.
Thank you for the question,dswdiane!
dswdiane, and doing so will help me to track them down and organize them, because it's been a very long time since I've dug through my folder of Back Burner Items. I forgot how much stuff I had actually written bits of, in the grip of my Jeremiah mania. So here goes nothing, arranged by type of nothing.And in the full spirit of the thing, I'll post a little excerpt from each rough draft. Then I will go hide. :)
1. More Erin fencing vignettes! Character moments that can stand on their own, and a fun challenge for me to write one shots. They're a grab bag of ideas (post or during canon, canon compliant or divergent) that are top of the heap for actually getting finished and posted sometime soon. The trickiest part is to find out how each relationship can be enhanced through swordfighting. If the scene could play out the same way anywhere else, it needs more work. I have strong sketchwork for Erin with Theo, Smith and Lauren, as well as actual drafts for Elizabeth and Lee (both needing to get retooled, but still). Here's a bit from the Theo/Erin segment:
~
Erin had packed the necessary kit and gone out to Clarefield, resigning herself to a brief, unpleasant attempt at a lesson, but Theo surprised her from the first, taking to the task wholeheartedly. "I don't mind learnin' the rules long as I can break 'em later," she said on the first day, and she was as good as her word, progressing steadily through the course Erin had devised, and with such excellent physical memory Erin doubted the lessons would be needed for very long. Still, Theo gave her hell the one time she tried to cancel. "How the hell am I supposed to learn my balestra if teach is gonna leave me high and dry whenever she feels like it?"
So Erin tried very hard to leave time in a calendar always busy.
~
2. Written on the Mirror, the albatross around my neck. Twenty "episodes" of a sequel, which kicks off right after the credits roll. I was trying to address all the character arcs and unresolved plot threads, while telling a coherent overarching story. Has the misfortune of being the first fanfic I ever started, so it's got a lot of problems, and the second half isn't drafted, just vaguely sketched. This was when I was new to fandom and had no idea that I could ask for help, and thought I had to sink or swim on my own. So it sunk (which is good, because I became a better writer by working on short projects which gained actual feedback).
So now I'm a better writer, and Mirror is still far from complete. This is one where my ambition outpaced my sense. Everyone needs therapy, but instead of getting any, they just over-identify with each other. It's all there in the title, and I ran parallels every which way I could find. This is my white whale, my unhinged conspiracy board meme, overloaded with angst and talkiness and plot contrivances.
Here's a bit from right near the beginning:
~
Alone on the floor in the far right corner sat what Kurdy presumed to be the founder Warren, hands tied behind his back. He didn't look especially comfortable, and he winced at the sudden influx of light, but started speaking the instant Lex shoved Jeremiah inside.
"Today's loyalty will be remembered and rewarded. This is no time to burn bridges." Lex ignored him, manhandling Jeremiah into a sitting position before doing the same for Kurdy and Smith. The three new captives were arranged in a neat row along the left wall. "Some lies are necessary. It was the only way, we are the only way to bring the Old World back!" Warren's voice was raised as Lex walked away, slamming and bolting the door. The cracks between the boards were suddenly the only source of light.
Kurdy stared in Warren's general direction. "I think Markus will want to have a word with you about that 'bringing the Old World back' idea. Thunder Mountain has done more good than the Army of Daniel ever could-"
"Thunder Mountain is run by children," said Warren dismissively.
"Oh yeah," said Jeremiah, "and what does that say about your army, if you're sending children to war?"
"Civilization entails sacrifice. We were bringing-"
"How about you shut the fuck up and leave us to wait for rescue? Our people are already coming for us, while your people - oh wait, they're the ones who threw your lying ass in prison. Sure, you're really bringing us the wisdom of ages here." So saying, Jeremiah shifted his back to Warren as best he could.
Kurdy's eyes were starting to adjust and he could just make out Smith's form, hunkered down beside the door. He still said nothing. Kurdy leaned against the wall and spoke bleakly. "Markus is not gonna be happy."
~
3. Mystery work??? I... actually forgot about this one. It's a ramshackle bit of nothing, which was post-canon and included a lot of different elements which I ended up cannibalizing into Sidelined and some of the WIPs listed here. Consequently, all that's left are a few odd scenes that can't fit elsewhere and which I could still make something of, such as this immediately post-show scene.
~
"Would you go with Jeremiah already?" Kurdy told Smith, who hadn't left his side, although he was tottering with tortured exhaustion. "He took care of business - I think he'll be okay with you sharing a medical tent." Especially considering they were in for the exact same reason. If that didn't make peace between them, nothing would. "I'll manage without my scribe for a day."
Smith clambered into the truck, ungainly yet expectant. "I'm feeling much better, actually." Kurdy snorted. "Could you just drop me off at the school? I have something to take care of, I'll catch you later."
"This can't wait?"
Smith gave him a plaintive look.
"Dumb question, right." Kurdy started the engine. "You're gonna promise me when you're done, you'll stop and see to yourself, alright?" No reaction. "Smith? You promise?"
"I promise. The Sisters have medical kits."
Kurdy strongly doubted Smith would ever use their supplies for himself, no matter how much he required care. "Doesn't God ever tell you you should look after yourself first?"
Smith gave one of those sad, pained smiles of his, like someone he cared about had stepped on his foot.
"Well, after today, he'd better be giving you a raise of some kind. I mean, the whole world's seen one of your miracles, Smith."
"It wasn't mine."
"Well, would you cheer up anyway?"
~
Canon divergences!
4. Jeremiah doesn't escape Clarefield in the pilot. Kurdy and Simon (who would have to live, at least long enough to get to the Mountain with Kurdy) would escape, thinking he'd been killed, and Jeremiah would be left trying to gain the trust of a supremely pissed-off Theo. This is one of those fun "short" ideas that would inevitably snowball into me having to rewrite the entire show, because without Jeremiah, everything would change drastically. In some bad ways (Valhalla Sector would steamroll into the area by the fourth episode, I think) and some good ways (the circumstances behind every major canonical death would be averted!). It would also give me a chance to try the hotness which is enemies to lovers Jeremiah/Theo. Speaking of:
~
She studied him, waiting for some kind of response, and then spoke seriously. "They got away. Your friends. Took the truck, left you pissing in the wind."
Relief lodged deep in his chest. He didn't let it show.
"Which means I get to do whatever I want until they come back for you."
"They won't. I told you, I don't know those guys. Just to say hi to."
"Sure bothered you when I shot the one."
"It's called a principle, Theo."
Her hand flashed out, seizing the top of his hair with strong fingers and yanking his head back until they were eye to eye. "Who you think you're fucking with here?"
Jeremiah let his injuries throb without protest, keeping his voice level and quiet. "They won't come back."
"Better hope they do, or I got no use for your skinny white ass."
She shoved him away and he made the effort to smile, drawing deep breaths against the pain in his ribs. That got her attention. "And when they don't," he continued, as if she hadn't said anything, "then you'll know."
"Know what?"
"That I really did save your life."
Though deadly quiet, Theo didn't fly at him outright. What he'd witnessed from her, torture and murder for spite, didn't even get her on the list of the worst he'd seen. Besides, if he regretted saving her, he regretted being human.
"But I guess you'd prefer it the other way, with me working some angle, right? Because see, that way you don't owe me anything."
"They'll be back," she said, and stood. "We all got time to wait."
~
5. Libby seduces Erin instead of Jeremiah. This goes in the bad ideas category, existing in my brain as an excuse to try writing an erotic spy thriller (one of my favorite trash genres), with a tangled, twisted mess of motivations. I don't think the result would make a lick of sense, and the fact that it opens with Libby convincing Erin to try on the black party dress indicates how traumatizing I found the Erin & Markus dance scene, because subtle, this is not.
~
Erin turned around, unsure if she felt over or under dressed. "Look, you don't have to go to this trouble."
Libby paused, suddenly serious. "Erin, you should let yourself have this. I know you want to wait, I know what you're thinking - you're thinking there's a perfect time, there's a day waiting in the wings just for you, but you know how the perfect is the enemy of the good? The way it goes, there might never be a better time, and you'll end up forcing something where it doesn't fit, you know?"
Erin swallowed hard. Libby studied the dress with admiration and then murmured, "It's not disloyal to take the next best thing in the meantime. It's just living. So, how about it?"
A small nod and Libby pressed play. Unfamiliar opening chords, a slide guitar and Libby sprang forward, pleased, hands capturing hers and pulling her out into the tiny square of open floor. "Dance with me."
After an instant of hesitation, Erin put a hand to Libby's shoulder and let her lead. She clearly knew more of what she was doing and Erin wasn't at all clear what was making her feel nervous and energized. She'd danced at Christmas parties, but always in a crowd and never to a song like this. A love song, she thought at first, but as it went on she realized the words were all wrong, and she almost commented on it, just to cut the tension.
What tension? It's only Libby, this is ridiculous...
"Why do all this?" she found herself saying. "You barely know me."
Libby leaned close, mouth almost brushing Erin's ear. "I know what it's like. Wanting someone who isn't there."
~
6. Sims decides to attack Millhaven instead of going after the trucks. Thereby taking Erin and Smith hostage, at which point all kinds of fun discussions and moral struggles could ensue. Yes, this is basically that one plot point in Sidelined on overdrive. No, there is no actual ending to my outline, because I could not figure out how Sims wouldn't end up gutted like a fish for his audacity. Another for the bad ideas column.
~
"Mister Smith made his offer yet?"
Erin shrugged. "Since I'm not going anywhere, and neither is he, I would say it hardly matters. He can't walk through the walls, and he's only got one working arm."
"Still, I expect you'd give it some thought. Last refuge of the powerless. Though if you're inclined to escape your current imprisonment, there's a more direct appeal you could make."
"Would that be referring to Daniel, or to you? Or has that line started to blur?"
"Then again," he said, his change of topic basically a yes, "the Western Alliance has no hope of winning without divine intervention. That seems a miracle more to your taste."
"Yes, it would be wasteful to ask for my own freedom when I could guarantee theirs."
"I thought as much."
This conversation was ridiculous. She'd promised herself not to take Smith's latest mad offer seriously, and now she was discussing it like a serious proposition. "I guess you wouldn't ask for anything? That would be an admission your side might not win. Which of course is impossible."
Sims appeared pleased, but didn't bother answering. It was as if Erin was finally grasping a fundamental truth of reality - which was annoying coming from a man who frequently abused sarcasm, but Erin didn't let it show.
"You know," she said with deliberate casualness, "I've changed my mind. Maybe, if I could ask God for a miracle? I would ask for you to switch sides."
The offer infuriated him, she could tell, and it was immeasurably satisfying to witness. She had won this round. He stepped closer, seeking to intimidate by proximity and she waited for him to fall back on his usual declarative bluster, as though repetition could make the false true. Instead, he only said, "And if I were to make the same request, we'd find ourselves exactly where we are right now."
"Why would you ever ask for that?"
She meant it as a goad of his vaunted patience, an accusation of faithlessness, willingness to cheat on the test if it got the result he wanted, but by his smile, she knew she'd made a mistake. "Why would you?"
~
Crossovers!
7. Highlander crossover. While I was able to come up with a background canon divergence involving Richie sparing Mako (a circumstance which somehow logically leads to Martin Hyde, Brian Cullen and Tyler King all being alive in the apocalypse) and Cassandra prophesying the end of the world, I never was able to find a central pillar of plot for this one. I'm mostly fascinated by the ways different Immortals would adapt, and so this would probably work best as a set of vaguely interconnected short stories about a wide variety of Immortals trying to get by, with a heavy emphasis on worldbuilding. Also, there's a plotline about Sims and Libby both being very new, deeply confused Immortals (Amanda becomes Libby's teacher, and reads her like a book), both as an excuse to keep them around, and as a way to explore the extreme generation gap between original and post Big Death Immortals.
Anyway, here's a bit from the Michelle Webster snapshot I wrote for it.
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Michelle Webster sat at the bar, numbing herself over a glass of rotgut which was unlikely to strike her blind (no such guarantees for the other patrons) but went some way toward silencing the disapproving voices of her four parents. Immortality's gifts had ended with the apocalypse, but it turned out that sex, drugs and rock and roll were in their own way eternal. She was trapped in a petri dish of her own immaturity. She tried not to make eye contact with the other patrons, children all, though in their twenties.
Axel had wanted to see the world with fresh eyes. She wondered what he'd have done when he no longer wanted to see it at all. Ten good years were all she would have gotten with him, but it had turned out ten years were all the world had going for it. Given the option, knowing the future, would she have made another choice? A bit of fun before she lost her head, never living to see this day.
I taught you better than this, Michelle.
Amanda's voice. Michelle tipped up her glass with a grimace. Maybe she would have made a third choice and gone into craft brewing instead. The end of the world surely needed it.
At first Amanda's voice had been a comfort, consoling her against the judgments of Craig and Nancy, and the condemnations of Duncan MacLeod. Amanda had told her there was nothing else for it, and girls needed to have their fun somehow, until the world righted itself. Not that she knew how Amanda had really taken the end of the world - intercontinental travel had collapsed so fast, she hadn't heard from her or Duncan.
Michelle had holed up in a monastery until she could pass for one of the survivors, and in a way she was. Her memories of the Old World were clearer, true, but she buried those when she could and the rest of Immortality barely applied. The kids didn't have a clue what they were, their only available teachers still hiding on Holy Ground in their hoods and robes, waiting while the world went further to shit. None of them carried swords, although she'd hung on to hers. Habit.
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8. Brimstone crossover. I hammered out an over-ambitious outline after watching the two shows practically back to back, but this feels like it would be kind of brutal to write, given the harsh Old Testament worldbuilding in which people go to hell if they break the eye for an eye rule. However, there's some interesting stuff in there, with Zeke trying to help Paul and then Ezekiel, and with the damned souls engineering the end of the world to try to wipe out all believers in God and the Devil, and thus destroy heaven and hell.
Here's the one bit that reached sketch status (ouch, I wrote like a block of wood back then), in which Jeremiah has gone to kill Sims, but Ezekiel Stone decides to step in to save Jeremiah's soul.
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"I know this story, Jeremiah. I've been where you are."
"Smith put you up to this? Get the fuck out of my way."
"Can't do that."
"Right."
Jeremiah swung a punch. Zeke let it land, but when Jeremiah tried to go past him, he pushed him back down the hill. "You need to listen. I know how this ends. I killed the man who raped my wife. Six months later, I died, and my soul was damned."
"Smith did put you up to this, the fuck." Jeremiah sounded more confused than angry.
"Sims is going to hell. Don't follow him there."
"If God sends me to hell for killing that evil son of a bitch, I got no use for him. Not that I had any before."
"Still can't let you do this."
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9. Miracles crossover, using the combined lore of the shows, as well as the corporeal ghosts of the latter. When I rewatch Miracles, I will take notes, but that show's a bit heavy in its grief themes for me right now, so it will have to wait for a better time to construct an outline. However, I did write some bits down, clearly intending for ghostly spookiness to abound. This whole thing would be an excuse for the "conversations with dead people" trope. Here's Smith, having been captured by raiders, dreaming of Libby (no, I don't have any more context for this scene):
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The watch swung on its chain, dangling from her fingers, always slightly out of his reach. "Give that back. Please."
"Please?" she said mockingly, arching an eyebrow. "The man who murdered me gets to say please now?"
"I'm sorry." He shuddered. "You can't be real."
"Why not? You can hear God, but your victims aren't allowed to come haunt you? Doesn't seem fair, now does it? Are you cold, Mister Smith? Would you like a blanket?"
There was the sound of approaching footsteps. His captors were returning.
Libby swung the watch upward and caught it easily, tucking it inside her jacket. "They like shiny things. I'll hang on to this for you. For safekeeping."
"No, don't! I need it!"
"I'm not real, right? I'm a ghost, I can't steal anything. What are you afraid of?" She leaned over him and kissed his forehead. "Be brave."
Smith started awake, clammy with sweat. He started feeling around in his pockets, trying to get the watch out, hide it beneath something before the thieves he'd fallen in with arrived in the room. He checked twice, three times. The watch was gone.
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Okay, that was a lot. I really need to clear out my writing folders, yikes. This is way more stuff than I realized.
Thank you for the question,
dswdiane!
